This is the story of obsession,But it's not a confession.I didn't do this thing -It just popped into my brain.And although I seem to knowHow it feels to be soIn love with someone vainly,This is ONLY (mainly)How I think it feels;For me, this isn't real.But for some distressed girlWhose heart a jerk did hurl,This is the greatest pain,To be jilted in the rain,To be left alone to cry,To want, to lose, to lieTo all her family and friends,Especially her mom who tendsTo blow things out of proportion,Calling her love distortion.But I want you to knowHer feelings sank her lowAnd caused her all this pain,This grief and her disdainFor stupid, lying menWhom you can recognize whenYour love is not enoughTo get shine through all the stuffThat cages their cold hearts.So listen to this part:That girl that I am notWho you might think is hotIs still a person, creep,A person you should keep.

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